


Fill

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Ficlet, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-15 10:17:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13611291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: It’s Ignis and Prompto’s turn with the plugs.





	Fill

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for anon’s “The bros fucking each other until they're dripping cum and plugging it in, feeling it dripping out even with the plugs in” prompt on [the FFXV kinkmeme](https://ffxv-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/4398.html?thread=7618350#cmt7618350).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Even Ignis can’t stay on all fours once the second round’s started. He took Noctis for the first and managed well enough, holding himself up on hands and knees on one of the hotel room’s two single beds, or at least, he did at the start. Once Noctis finished and filled him to the brim, pounding in every last drop with an almost feral possessiveness, Ignis hit his limit. He collapsed right as Gladiolus let out a wild roar, knocking poor Prompto down onto the second bed. The sight of that, combined with Noctis giving his cock a final pump, pushed Ignis over the edge: he’d come all over the ugly floral bedspread, a nameless cry on his lips, because he didn’t know which one of them to pray too. And then Gladiolus and Noctis had pulled out and calmly switched places—the stimulating dinner Ignis fed them delivered well on its promise of extra stamina.

And now that Gladiolus’ enormous cock is storming his hypersensitive channel, Ignis doesn’t stand a chance. He tries to push himself up again, but his arms are shaking too much for it. His face is turned against the pillow, and Gladiolus keeps a firm grip on his hips to keep those up. Across from them, Prompto’s sprawled out on his stomach while Noctis pounds fiercely into him. Noctis might not have Gladiolus’ girth or muscles, but he has a fire that offers just as much intensity. Seeing that, and feeling the delightful burn of Gladiolus’ expert thrusts, is enough to make Ignis dizzy. His glasses have long since been set aside, along with all his clothes, and his vision swims as Gladiolus takes him. Each brutal thrust is harsher than the last. He’ll likely have bruises on his hips tomorrow, if not hickeys along his shoulders from Noctis’ eager mouth. He hopes they all appear, vivid and bright red, for him to trace and recall fond memories. 

Then Gladiolus reaches a meaty hand below his stomach and grabs his cock—Ignis gasps and quivers. He’s hard again, thanks to that special meal, but his flesh still feels spent and tender. It almost hurts when Gladiolus’ fist tightens around it, slicked up with his own seed. It’s not _quite_ painful enough for Ignis to ask for it to stop. Never that. If anything, his hips try to stutter into Gladiolus’ grip, but it’s no use; Gladiolus has complete control of them, as with all of his body, and Ignis winds up taking only what Gladiolus gives him.

Gladiolus pumps him in time to each merciless thrust, making the bed creak and sway. The room is full of protesting furniture and wet squelching sounds, punctuated with the raw slapping noises of skin on skin—Prompto’s wristband is the only clothing that’s survived. He claws at the sheets and whines beautifully as Noctis fills him. Sometimes his blue gaze drifts over to Ignis, but mostly it’s just lost, fucked right out of focus. Ignis understands the sentiment. But he fights to keep present, because as sore as he is, it feels _so good_ , and these moments of overwhelming _pleasure_ , the four of them all reveling in it together, are ones he wants to remember. He savours every stab of Gladiolus’ mammoth dick and loves the wet patches on his neck where Noctis kissed him. He would’ve liked to be able to fit on the same bed as Prompto, so they could’ve felt one another during the fray, but the hotel’s beds are too narrow and likely couldn’t have taken the fervor of four men anyway.

Prompto comes first, and he drags Noctis quickly down with him, practically sobbing into the pillow and garbling Noctis’ name. Noctis grits his teeth when he comes, looking every bit as _gorgeous_ , but he’s quieter. Gladiolus’ rhythm doesn’t slow. Ignis feels each thrust as he watches the others finish. Prompto becomes utterly boneless, and Noctis slumps, then leans down to trail a slew of messy kisses along Prompto’s sweat-slicked back. Prompto writhes underneath the attention and mewls. 

Ignis could come from that alone, but Gladiolus must see that, because he grabs Ignis tight and holds him back—Ignis’ cry of distress draws Noctis’ eye. But it only puts a smirk across his handsome features. Then he fishes amongst the rumpled sheets for the long, plastic plug that spent yesterday deep inside him. Tomorrow is Prompto’s turn. And Ignis’. Ignis hazily watches Noctis pull out, only to shove the plug in—Prompto whimpers and squirms. Ignis lifts his head up enough to see a few stray trails of white drip out around it, drizzling down Prompto’s thighs, but with how virile Gladiolus and Noctis both are, there was no keeping it all in. Their prince has always come an absurd amount, and Gladiolus isn’t much behind. 

Gladiolus grunts, “Almost...” and strokes Ignis again in clear permission to come. Ignis has always been good at obeying orders. He instantly lets go, painting Gladiolus’ fingers and the bed below, a strangled noise tumbling out of his hoarse throat. Gladiolus goes right through it. Then, just as Ignis’ foggy head is coming down again, he finishes up too. Ignis can feel it thundering through him, and Gladiolus still growls like a beast.

Gladiolus finally lets Ignis’ hips fall, and his final few thrusts stab Ignis down into the mattress. Ignis is bizarrely grateful for it. He’s so spent he can hardly move, entire body lightly trembling from an overload of his senses. Gladiolus grinds in a bit more, until Ignis is groaning for mercy.

It’s almost a relief when Gladiolus pulls out of his abused channel, but it also feels _wrong_ to be so empty, stretched as wide as he is. The double load of cum sloshing around inside him isn’t substantial enough, and it starts leaking out when he squeezes. Gladiolus chuckles, and Ignis feels something cold press into his thigh—it runs up and pokes into him, keeping the rest inside. Ignis clenches experimentally around the plug. It isn’t _quite_ as big as Gladiolus, and he dizzily worries if he’ll leak around it tomorrow, when the four of them are running hard across the plains.

“They look good,” Noctis mutters, and Ignis glances over to see him eyeing Prompto’s plug. 

Prompto wags his flushed ass and sleepily teases, “Why don’t you take a picture?”

“We should,” Gladiolus grunts. He gives Ignis’ a little tap that jostles it just enough for Ignis to moan. “It’s going to be fun watching you try to drive with this in.” He grins like it’ll be difficult, even though it’ll hardly be Ignis’ first time. Then he leans in to brush a kiss over Ignis’ cheek that Ignis is too tired to respond to. It takes a great deal of effort to roll onto his back and ignore the protest of his rear.

But he needs to in order to reach his arms up. He bids Gladiolus down into them, and as Gladiolus sinks into his embrace, Ignis purrs, “Enjoy it while you can... because tomorrow night, it’s _my_ turn.”


End file.
